


Four Tablespoons

by chibi_nightowl



Series: Myth-Bats [6]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Sickfic, Spleen? What spleen?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: He could be putting me out of my misery and I wouldn’t care. Maybe when I’m dead I will. I’ll haunt him. Mess up his bookshelves and change the codes on his armory.
“You’ll do no such thing, Baby Bear. Touch my books, dead or alive, and I’ll make your life/unlife hell.”“I need to stop thinking out loud.”“Nah, keep it up, Replacement. It’s hilarious. Just be glad I’m not recording it.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoAwayOlivia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoAwayOlivia/gifts).



> For the wonderful GoAwayOlivia. Feel better soon!

 

Tim curls up tight in his blankets, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the throbbing ache in his body from his fever. He knows he needs to get up and take more medicine, but it’s so much _effort_ , and he’s finally warm. The last bout of chills had finally left him, but he knew he’d soon be kicking off the blankets when he starts sweating again.

 _How’s that supposed to go? Sweat a cold, starve a fever? Or is it the other way around?_ His head hurt too much to care.

From somewhere beyond his closed bedroom door, he heard a rhythmic _thudding_ sound. _Or is that my heart?_ It was just steady enough to lull Tim back into a light doze.

He felt like it was just a moment later that he hears someone calling his name from his living room. It went quiet, then suddenly his door is opening and that’s _light_ and it’s _bad_ and Tim moans, burying his face in his pillow and scrunching his eyes tightly shut.

“Hey, Replacement,” came Jason’s oddly cheery voice. “Wakey, wakey, we got some brainstorming to do and…” his voice trails off.

Somewhere in his mind, Tim knew Jason was taking in the sight of the overflowing wastebasket full of used tissues, the humidifier humming on his dresser, and the bottle of cough medicine on his nightstand. He didn’t care, he’s _warm_ and now the blankets that felt so wonderful a minute ago are stifling and he struggles to kick them off so he can _breathe_.

“How long you been sick?” Jason asks in a quieter tone.

“A day?” Tim croaks out, squinting in what he thinks is Jason’s general direction. It’s blessedly dark again.

“What have you taken?”

Tim waves in the general direction of his nightstand and hears Jason come closer.

“When was the last time you took this?”

“Dunno, but it’s not doing a good job,” Tim mumbles. He feels a cool hand brush the damp hair back on his forehead and rest there a moment. The touch is _amazing_ and he can’t help trying to lean into it.

“I’d say it’s doing shit as that’s a nasty fever you got, Replacement. Let’s get you in a lukewarm shower and I’m going to get some fluids in you even if I have to hook you up to an IV.” Jason removed his hand and Tim groans at the loss of contact.

He struggles to sit up while Jason steps away to go to his bathroom and get the shower running. A shower sounds good and he fights to get his sweaty undershirt over his head. It’s more complicated an action than usual and when Jason returns, Tim had somehow freed an arm and nothing else.

“Lost in there?” A strong hand took hold of the shirt and slips it over Tim’s head.

Tim sniffs and blinks at Jason. “Shower.”

“Yep, that’s where you’re going.” Before the sick man realizes it, he’s swung up into Jason’s strong arms and carried across the room. Tim struggles a bit, but doesn’t have enough energy to fight.

The bathroom lights are bright and Tim buries his face in Jason’s shoulder. He feels the man shaking. “Don’t laugh.” He tried to make his voice as firm as possible, but knows it’s an epic fail as the shaking increases and Tim hears Jason chuckling now.

“You’re hilarious, Replacement. Now sit here, don’t move, and let the water just fall on you.” Jason places Tim in his tub, boxers and all, settling him so that the softer spray from his hand held showerhead falls almost directly over his head and down his fever flushed body. The water is the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold. Just right.

“You’re a regular Goldilocks, Replacement. Do I need to start calling you Baby Bear?”

Tim raises his head and let the water fall right into his face a moment before tilting it to the side. He can finally see Jason clearly and the bigger man is grinning. “I said that out loud?”

Jason laughs, loud and bright and that’s his Robin laugh and that’s his grin and… “I need to shut up now.”

A hand reaches out and ruffles Tim’s hair. “You’re fever addled, so I’ll let it slide this time. Be back in a few.” Jason pulls the shower curtain shut and Tim is suddenly sitting alone in his shower.

It was nice. Tim leans back against the cool porcelain of the tub and let the water wash away the grime from the last day or so. He felt energized enough to actually make a cursory attempt at reaching for his soap to clean up, but didn’t have too much luck as his legs refused to cooperate.

It isn’t long before Jason returns and pulls open the curtain. He waves a bottle of water at Tim and waits for him to take it. He’d already uncapped it. Tim takes a sip, then another one, and then gulps most of it down. Pausing to breathe, Jason hands him some pills in a medicine cup. “Save some to swallow these.”

Tim doesn’t care what the pills were at this point. _He could be putting me out of my misery and I wouldn’t care. Maybe when I’m dead I will. I’ll haunt him. Mess up his bookshelves and change the codes on his armory._

“You’ll do no such thing, Baby Bear. Touch my books, dead or alive, and I’ll make your life/unlife _hell_.”

“I need to stop thinking out loud.”

“Nah, keep it up, Replacement. It’s hilarious. Just be glad I’m not recording it.” Jason grins down at him. “I’ve got some pho on order. It’ll be here in about 30 minutes. You’ve got shit in your fridge, as usual, but I found your pill stash. I just gave you one of those uber vitamins of yours and a Tylenol for the fever. I also called Alfred to see what you usually take when you’re this sick and he’s calling a pharmacy to get you some fancy cough medicine with the good shit in it.”

Tim groans. “That’s cheating. You called _Alfred_.”

“I had to. I know you’re missing a certain vital organ that helps with shit like this. I’ve never been around you when you’re this sick, but I know a high fever when I feel one.” Jason sounds defensive, but stands his ground.

“My head is stuffed up.”

“So I gathered from the tissues. I talked Alfred out of coming over, he doesn’t need to be exposed to whatever you have. I’m going to go clean up your shit and make you some tea. When you feel like gettin’ out, pound on the wall.” Jason stands up and pulls the curtain shut again.

Tim relaxes in the tub for a while longer. He can almost _feel_ when the meds kick in as he’s no where near as achy as he was when Jason dropped him in the tub. Carefully standing up, Tim takes off his boxers and lets them fall in a sodden heap at his feet. He grabs his soap and washes up, the desire to be _clean_ suddenly paramount in his mind.

Turning off the water, Tim stands there a moment to catch his breath and coughs _hard._ It hurts like hell but for the first time in a day, they’re productive coughs and Tim spits mucus down into the drain.

“That’s attractive,” Jason’s voice comes from behind him. “Now get your scrawny white ass over here and dry off.”

Tim feels a towel carefully draped over his shoulders and a hand reach out to turn and guide him out of the tub. He’s quickly dried off and bundled up in clean boxers and a new undershirt. Jason even puts socks on his feet before leading him out of the bathroom, across his bedroom, and into his living room sofa where a soft afghan and a warm cup of tea are waiting for him.

On the TV, Mythbusters has been queued up and Tim smiles for the first time. “Thanks, Jay.” He settles into the afghan and wraps his hands around the mug, carefully taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

Jason sits down next to him with his own cup of tea and puts his feet up on Tim’s coffee table. “Don’t thank me yet, I’m making you watch the runny nose episode.” He grabs the remote and hits play.

It takes a moment for Tim to remember the episode. “Oh, that’s gross.”

“Four tablespoons an hour, Replacement. _An hour_. How long you been blowing your nose and touching shit around here? You’re lucky I found your disinfectant wipes. If I get sick, I’m comin’ after you.”

Tim sniffles again and glares blearily at Jason. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

The look Jason gives him is amused. “Yeah, you were doing a stellar job there when I found you. A plus. Just be glad I called Alfred instead of Dick.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Tim said vehemently. “I don’t think I’d have survived.”

Jason smirks, but doesn’t say anything. The pho arrives and Tim doctors his with the spicy chili oil he keeps on hand for these kinds of occasions. The hot soup combined with the chili oil soon has his nose running freely and he’s going through another box of tissue before he even realizes it. Jason leaves to get his medicine and returns with it, three more boxes of tissues, a bottle of orange juice, and a six-pack of cranberry ginger ale.

Tim takes his good cough medicine and is soon feeling the drug induced sleepiness and lassitude. As he curls up in the afghan, he takes a final look at Jason before closing his eyes. The man is stretched out again with his feet up, another cup of tea in his hand, and doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. _Thank you, Jason_ he thinks.

“You’re welcome, Tim,” he hears before falling asleep.

 


End file.
